Of Doms and Subs
by SliverofJade
Summary: What's a submissive female to do when she fights her nature and goes on the run as a Lone wolf to avoid being assimilated into a pack?
1. Chapter 1

"Please, please, please let me get as far as Tacoma," I begged the flagging gas gauge of my trusty old lime green Jeep. Experience told me that it was wishful thinking because traffic was bound to hit before Everett. There was undoubtedly a Seattle pack and the fewer the stops in their area, the smaller the chance of getting picked up by the local werewolves.

A schoolbus drew parallel to me in the left lane so a giant cartoon lupine mascot filled my peripheral vision. "Can't stop here, this is wolf country," I muttered.

If I barrelled through, gas up in Tacoma, then I could avoid the dreaded I-5 parking lot in both Seattle and Portland on the Friday of a long weekend. Even though I started out in the British Columbia Rockies my destination was the central Oregon Cascade mountains, it was faster to cut across lower British Columbia, down the I-5 corridor, and then back across the Willamette Valley.

This route also happened to avoid the territory of the famous Adam Hauptmann and his pack. Oh sure, he was the perfect gentleman in the media and his wolves were seemingly well-behaved, but you know what they say about things that are too good to be true. I was submissive and had no delusions about where I'd end up in the hierarchy. Hell, humans had taught me that long before I was Changed two weeks ago. And female werewolves were inevitably absorbed into a pack because some old grand high poobah declared that we couldn't fly solo.

So why was I zigzagging all over the Pacific Northwest instead of rolling over like a good little bitch? Having been submissive for over thirty years, I'd long ago learned avoidance is the best way to avoid conflict. When that didn't work, an acerbic tongue and short temper kept most people from getting too close to abuse that aspect of my personality. Too many people think that passivity is a synonym for doormat.

My luck, or rather fuel tank, ran out in the U District. Red and blue lights lit up the rearview mirror just as I squeezed through a yellow light towards a gas station. "Please don't be for me, please don't be for me," I chanted as I pulled into the lot.

"Of course not, when has everything gone your way on this godsforsaken trip." I lowered my window, plastered a meekly congenial if slightly vapid look on my face, and gripped my license and registration in a sweaty fist.

"Good evening." The officer bent to look in the window. We both stilled the instinct we caught the other's scent. I dropped my eyes immediately, partly to avoid staring at the scar that marred his face, and offered the documentation. _Please don't ask any questions_ , I prayed silently.

"Are you traveling by yourself, Ms. Jones?" Whatever deities that haven't been listening to me can go shove it.

"Yessir. I'm headin' back home to Oregon from visitin' family." Mostly the truth. I did stop in Vancouver to visit my brother. I put the Southern drawl on fairly heavy. The twang and the manners to go with often smooth the way with people in uniform, even if I hadn't lived South of the 44th parallel in fifteen years.

"Oh, you have family here?" Must remain calm. Normal, even breaths will help control the heartrate.

"Vancouver," I smiled. So what if it was Vancouver, Washington and not Vancouver, British Columbia?

"BC?"

"Yessir." His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

"You must be a member of the Portland pack," he said, eyeing my ID a little too closely for comfort now.

"Yessir."

"I'm just gonna go run these." My dad was a cop and his face would go blank like that whenever he was gathering evidence of my brother's or my misdeeds. This was so many flavours of not good.

The wolf watched him walk back to his car. She liked the way he smelled. Familiar and right. Like family. If she could, she would have trotted right at his heels. At that thought, the human half kicked in and started up the engine, slammed her into gear, and peeled back out towards the onramp.

"Smart. Real smart, what're we gonna do now?" I tapped the steering wheel in a staccato rhythm with my thumbs in time to the rock blaring from the sound system. "No license, no registration, he called your plates in before saying hi, he has your address and…" I grabbed my phone and shut it off. If the conspiracy theorists were right, they could track me via the phone. Is it paranoia if they really are out to get you?

I crossed over to the 405 and stopped in Bellevue for gas, otherwise I'd be making my getaway on foot. I leaned against the Jeep, ignoring the damp that seeped from the cold metal through my clothing, and debated the merits of taking the really scenic route of 101. Or would they expect me to leave I-5 and thus making it the safer choice by hiding in plain sight? My head was starting to hurt from trying to outthink them.

The gas fumes seared my nose so I couldn't smell the driver of the Mazda 3 that pulled up behind me until he approached the squeegee station between us. Studiously avoiding eye contact, I screwed the cap back on and nestled the nozzle back in its hook. Slowly, no sudden moves.

I slid behind the wheel and as the engine turned over a cop car blazed into the station to block me against the Mazda. It looks cool in the movies. Less so if you're the one trapped. I shut off the engine, folded my arms, and leaned back in a huff. My license and registration slipped through the three-inch gap at the top of the window. I snatched them up and tossed them in my purse without pausing in my attempt to mentally set his car on fire. Unfortunately, lycanthropy didn't come with pyrokinesis.

"I take it you know the law." The scarred officer was not referring to any statutes written by man. In the movies fiery explosions usually follow when there are confrontations in gas stations. Too bad life wasn't imitating art in this case. "You can either come and meet our Alpha or I can arrest you and then you can meet him." There was no threat in his words. He sounded as if he were inviting me over for dinner, which might actually be the case. I resisted the urge to hit the steering wheel. It would likely crumple now.

"Fine. So where am I following you to meet your lord and master?"

"Matt here will be your driver," he gestured to the guy who'd blocked me in. Mazda Matt leaned against his car door with his arms folded across his chest. "Shane will follow in your car." A third man I hadn't noticed before was mirroring Matt's pose.

I sighed and looked at my phone. Even if they let me use it, who would I call? Hi big bro, I'm being kidnapped by werewolves. Please send in the National Guard. Tanks work against werewolves, right? I kicked open the door, forcing the cop to quickly sidestep. With a snarl on my lips, I chucked the heavy mass of keys attached to a carabiner at Shane. Damned werewolf reflexes. If he'd been human they'd have struck his temple and probably dropped him like a stone.

Matt came forward as if to take my elbow and escort me. "Touch me and I break your scaphoid. They're a bitch to heal even with regeneration," I snapped. Just because my wolf was happy about getting taken to meet their leader didn't mean I had to be. He drew back his hand, but he did open the door for me and waited till I buckled up before shutting the door. Why buckle up if I could survive a trip through the windshield? It'd still hurt like hell.

"So I heard you're from Portland," Matt said as we merged back onto 405 in an attempt to fill the silence that was thick with my seething.

"Look, I'm no doubt about to get grilled on all this anyway, so let's skip the twenty questions, ok?" He just shrugged and didn't seem put out by my rudeness.

Eventually he turned on the radio. I fiddled with it until finally settling on 101 the End. I tried to suppress a smirk at his frown. Judging by his pre-sets he liked the music just fine. Not so much me taking control of it. If some strange wolf was driving my Jeep, Mazda Matt could suck it up. He should just be glad I didn't put it on country.

Thirty minutes later, due to traffic as opposed to distance, we pulled up in front of an expansive house partially obscured by trees. I shuddered to think at the market value for the area. They seemed to be having a party due to the sheer number of vehicles parked beside the house. Shane pulled up as I trailed behind Matt to the door.

The door opened to a large mudroom with hooks for coats and cubbies for shoes. About half of them were in use. Curiously, there were two utilitarian shower stalls that would have looked right at home in a locker room. I followed Matt's and Shane's examples and removed my shoes, tucking them into one of the shelves.

"We're having a barbecue on Saturday, so a bunch of us are already here to watch the game," Shane explained from behind me as I followed Matt down the hallway. The sounds of men cheering or jeering at a TV screen echoed up from the basement. My human half was worried about being in a house with a bunch of strange men. My wolf on the other hand was curious.

How to play this? Be a general pain in the ass and risk the consequences? Or be a good little submissive female and not only risk being assimilated, but also subordinate to everyone else. I always believed in playing to one's strengths, which meant plan A was go. Besides, I'd never been accused of having the sense God gave a squirrel.

Matt stopped by an open doorway and gestured for me to enter. The man standing behind the desk was certainly not what I was expecting of an Alpha. For starters, he didn't look like an arrogant asshole. Secondly, he was maybe an inch taller than me, and I was considered fairly short. Underneath his wine, or perhaps blood, red dress shirt he was thin. The only hint to his status was the intelligence lurking behind his dark eyes, which I only glimpsed before lowering my eyes.

"Welcome, Eleanor," he came around to shake my hand. I didn't know if it was proper protocol or if he somehow knew that I was recently Changed and was sticking to familiar, human customs. His grip was firm, not crushing like some men, and not too gentle as if he was afraid of breaking me. It was a bit startling to actually be able to shake his hand properly instead of my hand simply being engulfed by his as was the case with most men.

"I am Angus Hopper, Alpha of the Emerald City Pack. You've made good time considering you left Revelstoke early this morning." Oh that was neatly done, putting me in my place by hinting that you know more than I suspected, but not exactly how much. "Have a seat," he leaned his backside against the desk and gestured to one of the comfortable looking chairs. It was an order, not an invitation.

"Been sittin' in a car so long I'd rather stand if's all the same." Eyes down, properly polite, and heavy on the Southern accent to hide any attitude.

"I imagine," he said with a small smile. "So tell me how you came to be living in Portland, a city currently without a pack." Crap on a cracker, there's no lying my way out of this one. How does a city that size not have a werewolf pack?

"I was Changed two-weeks ago," I sighed and sat in the other chair, the one he had not indicated, so he had to shift slightly to face me. If he didn't want small acts of defiance, then he shouldn't have multiple options available. "I was solo hikin' in Glacier National Park an' doin' a little boulderin'. One slip an' I ended up with a broken spinal column at the bottom of a ravine. By the time John found me, it was Change or die. Chose what I thought was the lesser o' two evils. Stayed with him through the full moon an' then headed home."

"Does John have a last name?" Angus asked with a frown. My wolf worried that he was displeased with us. I worried what that might mean for us if he was.

"He said he's old an' the old ones don't like to give their last names." I had to consciously square my shoulders, which had rounded when I wasn't looking. He nodded as if the answer wasn't a surprise to him.

"And he was willing to let you go so soon?" he asked with an arch of an eyebrow. It really should be illegal for such a simple gesture to lend an irresistible quality when he was already handsome. Or that could have just been my imagination because it was hard to read expressions from peripheral vision.

"Not as such no," I admitted reluctantly. "I waited till he went out huntin' then I booked it back down the mountain."

"Why did you feel the need to run?" he asked softly. Even if I was brave enough to look him in the face I doubted that it would give any clue as to what that tone was in his voice. I wasn't necessarily a coward, but I was never comfortable discussing my personal life, let alone with strangers. Focusing on the rug, or the bookcase, was easier than looking at him.

"I got a job to get back to an' I really wasn't fond o' the idea o' bein' stuck in the backwoods with a crazy old mountain man who's also a werewolf." He was silent, obviously waiting for me to continue. "I got the feelin' that even if I was fully in control he wouldn't let me leave."

Angus sighed and folded his arms in thought. "Do you know where John lives?"

"There's a map in my glove box. I could show ya the route to the cabin we stayed at. There're no roads, an' it's a bit of a hike in." Despite my best intentions, I was cooperating. The Alpha obviously did not like what he was hearing, but it was rapidly becoming apparent that I was not his quarry so I was more than happy to keep him on that trail. He caught the attention of either Shane or Matt behind me, and a moment later a door shut. "But I did get the feelin' that he moves around a lot."

"Eleanor," he began.

"Ellie, please." Angus did frown at the interruption, but hearing my horrible legal name, which the cop must have told him, was like having my fur rubbed the wrong way.

"Ellie, you're not in any trouble," he said soothingly, as if I were a startled horse that might bolt. Perhaps that analogy wasn't too far off the mark. "The manner of your Change was highly unusual, bordering even on breaking our laws."

"The law says that no one may be Changed without their explicit permission. I was coherent enough to give it." Ha, that caught him off guard. That's right, the newbie knows the rules of the game. I might not remember anything else around the accident, but things like a weird, hairy guy offering to save your life by turning you into a monster tends to stick in a person's memory.

"That is true, yes. However, the second law is that before someone is Changed they must undergo rigorous counseling and testing to determine whether or not they can become stable wolves," the Alpha explained. I forgot for a moment and stared into his dark eyes in shock that someone would make the choice deliberately rather than out of desperation. Then I remembered all of the disease riddled bodies I had seen in my career. I quickly looked away once the surprise faded.

"A newly Changed wolf lacks control for their first few full moons and requires supervision for the first year," he continued as if there was no breach of protocol. "A pack is necessary to guide new wolves." He sounded like he had given this speech many times before. Luckily, he didn't succumb to dry monotones.

"Which's why I was goin' to pack up an' move somewhere rural enough I could run off a little steam," I countered. "Nurses are always needed everywhere."

"This is not just a 'little steam,' pup." I suppressed a flinch at his growl. He took a deep breath, whether to calm himself or to continue his lecture I didn't know because the sound of the door opening interrupted. Shane handed Angus the familiar map, folded in my own fashion that in no way resembled its original creases. Those things are impossible to refold properly, anyway. After carefully moving a few items, he unfolded the map over his desk and handed me a pencil.

"Here's the trail head." I pointed to the circle already marking the spot on Highway 1. "He follows the main trail through this valley." I pointed at the trail, which was already marked from my planning before the trip from hell. The accent softened as I talked and forgot to maintain it. "At about here he branches off at different angles each time so that his trail, not being well worn, is hard to pick up until you're further out and know what you're looking for." I marked an X where I'd gotten lost and decided to just keep following the river down until I found either a trail, humans, or the highway. "Follow the river up and at the very edge of the park he's got a cabin right about here." I drew a paw print on the spot. "With the climb in elevation, it would've taken me about two days before… before. Downhill with a light pack, I made it in around eight hours."

"Does that say 'Dogtooth Range'?" Shane asked with a hint of a wry smile.

"Could've been worse. He could've gone for the really obvious with either Grey Fang or Fang Rock," I smirked and pointed out the so named peaks on the other side of the park. He snorted a chuckle.

"You didn't go to the authorities." It was a statement, not a question.

"And end up in a secret government facility?" I scoffed. "No thank you."

"Where did you stop to rest?" asked Angus.

"I didn't."

"Fatigue can be as dangerous as alcohol," he frowned.

"Have caffeine, will travel," I quipped.

"Even though your endurance has improved, you still need rest. Exhaustion erodes control." And back into lecture mode.

"Like I said, I'm a nurse. Pulling doubles, even triples, isn't unusual," I countered.

"You passed through the territories of four different packs." Someone had probably pulled my credit card history to follow my route in retrospect. That was fast work, and most definitely illegal. "How did you avoid detection?"

"Didn't stop more than was absolutely necessary," I shrugged. "And when I did, I tried to not get out of the car. Drive-thru, avoided pumping my own gas where I could."

With a few taps Angus called someone on his cellphone. He had to swipe his fingerprint to unlock it, first. It even had one of those heavy duty cases, which was probably a good investment for a werewolf. "Hello, Angus." It was still weird how much my hearing had improved, especially back in civilization.

"Hello, Bran." Aw, son of a biscuit. I really did not want to show up on the Marrock's radar. Angus gave a concise report of everything that had happened to me since the accident, as far as he knew, including the pathetic getaway attempt. I sat back down for the uncomfortable reprise.

"Send me the map and I'll have Charles look into it." I wasn't certain how I felt about having just signed John's death warrant. The old werewolf wasn't too specific, just that any time the Marrock sent someone blood was spilled. "How is she getting on with your pack?"

"She's a touch overwhelmed so I thought it best to wait before introducing them en masse." I glared at Angus from under lowered lashes, which is harder to do than you would think.

"If she chooses, escort her to Eugene. Otherwise I will send someone to fetch her here until she decides where to settle," Bran said. My scowl deepened and I opened my mouth to tell them exactly what I thought of their plans. Shane shook his head almost imperceptibly in warning, though there was more empathy than condemnation in the movement.

"Please give my greetings to Anna and Charles."

"I will." The call abruptly ended from the other end. Not one much for goodbyes our King of the Werewolves. Angus took a couple of pictures of the map and sent them off with thumbs flying across the screen fast enough to make a teenager jealous. Then he did the most supernatural act I'd seen out of a werewolf yet: he carefully folded the map along the original fold lines before handing it back to me.

I doubled it over and shoved it in my back pocket as I stood. "If you'll excuse me, I would like to make it home in time for my shift tomorrow night." Although I kept my eyes on the bookshelf, I could feel his stare boring through me till my knees threatened to turn to Jell-O. Locking one's knees is a surefire way to pass out eventually, but is effective in the short term.

"I'm afraid that you will have to change careers. Even old wolves can have problems around so much blood and the vulnerable." The bastard actually managed to sound regretful.

"I have neither the money nor the inclination to go back to school. Not to mention I'm a little old for that." Must not growl at the Alpha I mentally chanted for the benefit of my human half.

"Loans can be arranged, and I've known werewolves who were alive when the Magna Carta was signed and earned their doctorate two or three times over." He sounded so cool and collected as if we weren't discussing what was the beginning of what was theoretically to be my extremely long life. "The more immediate issue is how much control you have."

"If I don't get my act together by this time next year I'm put down." Don't know why I spared him when it would have been so much more fun to watch him squirm.

"Not only that, but you must be able to shift form and back at will." People go through that much pain willingly? "New wolves need a pack to teach them control and to prevent unnecessary bloodshed when the wolf takes over until control is regained. We cannot afford one mistake lest we all disappear into secret government facilities at best, or hunted down and exterminated at worst." Angus' voice achieved a deeper timbre that coiled through the room like some living thing as he seemed to be losing patience. "You will stay the night here. In the morning Shane and Matt will escort you to Eugene to be presented to the pack there." Ooh, presented like a gift. Who could resist such a command? Oddly enough, my wolf did not like this plan either.

"And if I don't want to join a pack?" It's difficult to arch an eyebrow effectively while avoiding eye contact. But not impossible.

"That is not an option," he shook his head. "Even if you were not so new, our females are so rare they not allowed to become lone wolves." That's what John had said, but I hoped that it was a lie to keep me from leaving. The whole damn lot of them were so possessive it's a wonder they even realized they were in the 21st century. And I didn't belong to anyone. Not any more.

"Fine. But I have driven from here to Eugene many times so I think we can dispense with the escort." I waved vaguely over my shoulder to where Shane still lurked by the door.

"That is non-negotiable. As a dominant male and even more so as an Alpha I have a responsibility to see a submissive female delivered safely to another pack." Oh bloody hell. John was right. They could tell from one's energy, matter how much I tried to hide behind my sass. "Not all dominants that you might meet along the way would be as tolerant of your attitude as I am."

"These are more rules from on high," I said flatly and folded my arms. "Tell me, is His Furriness one of those at the signing of the Magna Carta? No wonder ya'll's thinking's so medieval."

Angus grabbed me by the back of the neck and snarled in my face. Reflexively, I stiffened and closed my eyes to avoid looking at him. His grip was tight, but not painful. One quick twist and he could snap my neck. I was pretty sure that was one injury from which there was no recovery.

"The Marrock set down our laws for reasons you cannot yet comprehend. You don't have to understand our ways yet, but before God you will show respect," he snarled. There wasn't anything I could say to that, so with an involuntary shudder I went limp in his grasp. Well, there were things I could say, but self-preservation stayed my tongue. After a minute, he released me, stepped away, and turned his back. The strength I had just experienced first hand was evident in the taut lines of his wiry shoulders.

My heart pounded in my throat while in the back of my head my wolf howled her anguish at having been chastised. That was precisely why my self-preservation went right out the window. "My respect is earned, not freely given. If I'd realized that my choices were which pack I was going to be the lowest bitch in, I'd have told John to bugger off." At least he'd make sure that it was quick and clean.

The Alpha breathed deeply and was quiet for exactly ten seconds. Basic relaxation techniques to manage the beast within? And they thought they could teach me something in that area? When he was done, but not noticeably calmer, he turned around to lean against the desk again. "We have a rigorous screening process to avoid situations like this. Dominant lone wolves are the last people who should be teaching pack structure to a submissive female."

"Please stop using that term."

"'Female'?"

"Used as an adjective, it refers to a person. As a noun, it denotes something less than human. An animal." Like breeding pairs. Good thing I never wanted to procreate anyway.

"Get used to the terminology." If he were human, he'd have developed a new frown line from this conversation alone. "In the constant struggles for dominance, females and submissives are the center of a pack since they do not rise in rank, except for when their mate does in the case of females." If I didn't like 'female,' I despised 'mate,' which seemed a ridiculous term for a species that couldn't bear children. "With submissives, dominants don't have to constantly watch their back. And the pack will unite to protect these weaker members." Oh if he thought I was weak, he had another thing coming. "Female submissives are so valued that any pack would welcome you." 'Submissive' as a noun was definitely not an improvement. "But none would tolerate your disrespect for long."

"That's exactly why I should just be on my merry way," I said brightly. "I'm really more trouble than I'm worth."

"Nice try," he smirked. "Dinner is in thirty minutes. You'll want to freshen up." True to my nature I wanted to deny hunger despite not having eaten since well before the border crossing. I'd worn the same clothes for the past twenty-four hours straight, which included a frantic run down a mountain through unfamiliar woods, and my hands still smelled like gasoline.

I was still noticing just how many interesting smells I was covered in when a tall, perky blonde swept through the door. She must have practically been listening down the hallway, not that, that was necessary. Everyone in the house had probably heard me mouthing off. I'd forgotten about that. Great first impression.

"Please show Ellie to the guest suite." Mickayla gave a sloppy salute, earning a scowl from her fearless leader, then cocked her head in silent invitation to follow her.

"You're up on the second floor," she said as she led me upstairs. "Hopefully you're not afraid of heights after your accident," she grinned.

"Are you kidding? I've always wanted to try free climbing, but was too scared. Now I totally want to," I said.

"Just don't mention that to any of the guys or they'll have kittens." Her golden laugh bounced through the stairway.

"Now I'm picturing a bunch of them at the base of a cliff with a giant trampoline like in cartoons when there's a fire," I chuckled and she joined me.

"This is you," she waved a welcoming arm through an open doorway. "Matt already brought your backpack and duffel up." My bags were indeed sitting on a low, wide dresser against the nearest wall. The queen bed with its elegant down comforter faced the door. A door on the right led to a bathroom, although I had no idea how I was going to be able to do my business in a house full of people who could hear through walls.

"Thanks."

"No worries. You need anything you just give a shout. Wait, you're new. No actual shouting necessary, just a sort of 'hey' so we know you're not talking to yourself," she winked.

"Um, Mickayla?" She turned back to me. "What's it like being in a pack?"

She stepped into the room with a small smile and shut the door behind her. "I don't know this John, but sometimes wolves go lone because they can't handle being in a pack."

"Yeah, he did seem more than a little biased." I dug out the Ziploc of toiletries and the bundle that was the last clean outfit I'd originally saved for the last day of the drive home, but didn't dare stop long enough along the way to change.

"Think of a healthy pack more as one big family." Mickayla flopped onto the bed with one leg tucked up under her, but still kept her voice low enough to not carry. "Complete with the usual amount of dysfunction and bickering. So they're really a bunch of brothers, uncles, and cousins who are all trying to protect the little sister."

As she talked, I leaned against the bathroom doorway and started to brush my teeth. They had fuzzy sweaters from the energy drinks I'd downed to stay awake. "But then again, I'm married," she continued. "If you're single then the unmated ones will all come sniffing around."

"It's not that bad!" she laughed at my expression of dawning horror. "Even if any of them would push their luck and call down the wrath of their Alpha, the closest dom would thrash them, or if they couldn't, tag someone in who could. Mind you, I'm only talking about the Emerald City Pack. I was Changed just two years ago because my mate, Matt, was already a wolf. Before that there were no other girls for I don't know how long."

"They weren't kidding when they said that women are rare," I said around the toothbrush and foam that probably made me look rabid. She laughed again, although it was hard to tell whether it was at my surprise or the toothpaste.

"We're more functional than not here. But there are some stories out there of Alphas who went bad. I don't know much about the Eugene pack, but I haven't heard any horror stories either," she shrugged. "You know, it's funny, women are supposed to be huge gossips, but most werewolves are men and we all gossip worse than any housewife." I laughed and promptly choked, so I shut the bathroom door and started the shower as I finished brushing.

"You're going to need to get over that modesty." Mickayla's voice was easily heard through the door and over the running water.

"Oh?" I asked archly. She couldn't see the glare through the door as I undressed.

"It's incredibly painful to shift while wearing clothes. So pack runs, full moons…"

"I've just been told I have to switch careers, move to a new city, am no longer allowed to leave town without a babysitter, and when it comes to my place in a pack my only option is which one do I want to be at the bottom of the pecking order in. Oh, and all the single guys will be eyeing me like a juicy steak. Now you're telling me I have to become an exhibitionist? No thank you, I'm going to maintain whatever little control over my life I have left." It took all my willpower to not punch something. If I had to move and look for work there was no way I could afford to replace anything in this bathroom.

"If the pack's good, you'll be on a pedestal more or less, not the low man on the totem pole."

"Great, I always wanted to be Princess Peach stuck in the castle," I muttered sarcastically. "I'll see you downstairs."

"Ellie, I promise that it's not as bad as it seems," she said before leaving.

* * *

I stood lost in thought in my office for some time after she left, bathed in the complex layers of smells that confirmed her story. Mountain air, evergreens, sweat both old and nervous, gasoline, fast food, and no small amount of stress. Amidst the melange was a thread of fear. If it was any stronger, I would have called Alan, the pack's only submissive, to come and help calm her. But under the circumstances, her fear was to be expected. And he was working tonight.

Tension had been running high in the pack ever since we went public, and more so since submissive to ease the strain, and a second medic would not go amiss. Her presence would stir up a rash of dominance fights among the unmated males until she starting seeing someone. That is, if she could be housebroken. Time would show whether her defiance was born of ignorance or emotional pressure. Her knowledge of our primary laws would suggest the latter, though I preferred to avoid premature conclusions.

A younger wolf, or one who wasn't as high in the hierarchy, might find such calculations cold, especially in regards to a submissive female whose Change had been particularly traumatic. But you don't get to be an old Alpha without assessing the strengths and weaknesses of your pack and determining how they can best be used.

As much as I was loath to let her leave, even if the Marrock hadn't mandated, protocol and courtesy demanded that the Eugene pack have right of first refusal. Appropriate that Eugene was also referred to as the Emerald City, but we had claimed the name before the Portland pack had relocated there. Ordinarily I would have my second, Tom, call to arrange things with the other pack, but the unique situation and the fact that he was on duty called for a personal touch, even if my third, Shane, wasn't preparing for the trip. Besides, their Alpha, Colin, would be pissed if I dropped this grenade, no matter how cute or useful she was, in his lap without warning. No, not a bomb. Panicked ferret, maybe. Still not pleasant, but not as disastrous. And they could be cute, when they weren't baring their teeth.

Stifling a sigh, I found Colin's cell number in my phone and called him up.


	2. Chapter 2

_Holy crap, that's a lot of wolves_ , I thought as I entered what could only be described as an entertainment room. I'd followed my ears and nose to the basement, which wasn't really a basement, per se. Only the half of the lowermost floor was built into the hill upon which the house sat. The far wall was mostly a huge flat screen TV. Underneath the screen was a media center full of movies and video games and their consoles. The thickly carpeted floor was terraced to allow for more seating than would normally be feasible, and most of those seats were occupied.

Somewhere underneath a mound of pizza boxes I assumed there was a large, low table. The only problem was that the food was up front and center. This was worse than sitting in the back of class and then having to get up to give a report. Someone paused the football game when I walked in and everyone turned to look at me. I suddenly empathized with the rabbit I'd hunted the only time I'd run on four legs, which only reinforced the junior high flashbacks.

"Hi, my name's Ellie and I'm a werewolf. I've been fur-free for a week now," I said solemnly with a little wave. Chuckles cut through the expectant tension, a few called out in unison the requisite, "Hi, Ellie."

Mickayla waved me over to where she and Matt were sitting near the back. I took the armchair next to their loveseat and someone started the game up again. She handed me a plate piled high with pizza. "I grabbed you one of everything so you could avoid the walk of the shame." She cocked her head to indicate the pathway to the front before pointing out the several cans of soda on a low table between our seats.

"Thanks," I said with genuine gratitude as I shifted the piece of Hawaiian to the bottom of the stack before it could contaminate anything else. Fruit does not belong on pizza.

"Welcome to a bi-weekly ritual that lasts from September to January," she said dryly. "That's twice a week, not once every two weeks. Normally I'd leave them to it, but I couldn't just throw you to the wolves."

I snorted at the pun. "My family worships at the altar of the pigskin. Heck, I was a cheerleader in high school."

"Still got the outfit?" asked a guy in front of us. In unison, Mickayla, Matt, and his neighbours on either side hit him with some pretty good whacks upside the heat and elbows in the ribs before I could even arch an eyebrow.

"I think so, but I'm afraid it won't fit you. You're a little too big in the hips," I said sweetly.

* * *

Damn, I'd forgotten the pull of an unmated female. When Jim made his crack, I wanted to teach him some manners in front of everyone. It would have been overkill after the others, and Ellie's barb, but the urge was still there.

Privately, I agreed with the females, if it wasn't such a strong bonding activity for the pack, as well as a safe pressure valve for some of their aggression, I'd rather be doing nearly anything else. But either Tom, Alan and Matt, or I had to be there in case the things escalated beyond smack talk.

Now that she washed the residue of her trip, her signature scent stood out amidst the pizza and pack members. If anything, it was more noticeable because she didn't smell like pack. Yet. The hints of sunshine and cedar seemed to be a part of her instead of remnants of her time in the mountains. There was no sign of the fear that had filled her so recently, despite the occasional lewd comments, which she deflected or ignored with aplomb. I was pleased to note that when one of them tried to cross her lines, she turned her sharp tongue on the offender.

I was disappointed when she retired early for the night, even though she had deep circles under her eyes. Watching the submissive verbally hold her own against the men was more entertaining than the game.


	3. Chapter 3

I was very appreciative of the thick carpeting because it allowed me to nearly soundlessly slide the dresser in front of the bedroom door. The window screen was almost as silent when I popped it free of the frame. The room faced the leeward side of the hill, so it was effectively a three story drop to the ground. Not being eager to test out my regenerative abilities for the first time, I took one of the ropes from my pack and tied one end around a leg of the heavy oak bed. Rather than drop my bags noisily to the ground, I was grateful for my new strength that allowed me to climb down with them both slung across my back.

It was raining again. Or would that be still raining? Hard to tell in this part of the Northwest. Hopefully it would help muffle sounds. The thick grass squelched under my feet as I sprinted for the road, avoiding the driveway and its crunch gravel.

I was so focused that I almost didn't see the wolf charge at me as I rounded the house. What was his name again, Ian? I spun the duffel from my back to the front, using the momentum to slam the end into his solar plexus. Fifty pounds of weight powered by a werewolf judiciously applied into a two-foot squared area was sufficient to knock the wind out of even a werewolf.

Unfortunately, werewolves recover much faster than humans. Asphalt was so close I could taste the petrichor when Ian grabbed me. Before I knew it, I was slung over his shoulder so that it dug into my stomach, still full of pizza and carbonation. The duffel fell down and I extricated myself from the strap before it could strangle me. Rather than start a fight I couldn't possibly win, to keep myself calm, I pondered at what point suffocation would overpower regeneration.

"That was quick thinking with the duffel," Ian said as a salve to my pride.

"Get mugged on the way back from the gym, or work, you learn to improvise." My voice sounded stuffy to me from the blood rushing to my head till it felt like it would burst. "How'd you know?"

"We were all expecting it," he laughed. My stomach really wished he hadn't as his shoulder bounced against my gut. "Hell, there's a betting pool going on when you'd try."

Ian set me down on the porch and opened the door for me. We pried off our muddy shoes in the aptly named mudroom. "I'm gonna have to climb back up the rope." He cast a confused look my way. "I pushed the oak dresser in front of the door."

He threw his back and laughed. "You sure you're submissive?"

"That's what they keep telling me," I shrugged.

"I'll send Jim up, the dude's like a spider monkey anyway." He gestured for me to hang the backpack on a hook, so I surrendered it with as much grace as I could muster before he marched me down to what I was rapidly coming to think of as the principal's office.

If Angus had been woken up he gave no sign of it. He was dressed in the same clothes he wore earlier. The scowl was certainly the same, if a touch darker. "Where were you going this time?" he demanded.

"Timbuktu," I answered far more casually than I felt. "What is this? Another attempted case of Stockholm syndrome? Right now the only difference I'm seeing between you and John is a mansion in the city vs cabin in the woods."

"I tried to be delicate despite the situation and your nature, which is obviously ill suited to our culture." If I thought he was growly before, I was sorely mistaken. What rumbled from his chest to spill through the room had never come from a human throat. His voice was a wave of power like none I had ever felt before. I shivered involuntarily. As embarrassing as it was to visibly react, the more visceral response low in my body was mortifying. The wolf was anxious to submit. Our mutual arousal just made that urge worse.

"You are too new to control yourself." He no longer bothered with the amiable pose against the desk. Now he assumed an Alpha stance, drawn up to his full height, feet spread slightly, so his presence was overwhelming even without the mystical power he exuded before.

"I have been terrified, hunted, tired, hungry, held against my will, and am royally pissed, but I haven't lost control once." If someone only heard my words, they'd never suspect that my head was bowed and my shoulders practically hunched.

"The full moon is weeks away, so do not make the mistake of complacency. Do you know what happens to bad little wolves who lose it?" His register and volume had dropped till it was far more intimate than a voice should be, like a caress that brushed places not entirely physical. My wolf would roll over and beg just to have him praise instead of scold in that deliciously dangerous tone. "Their Alpha puts them down. Discipline is necessary to maintain the veneer of civility that allows us to co-exist with humans. Those who cannot adapt to our ways don't live long."

Oh crap. Angus had to teach me a lesson or else be seen as weak, possibly even flouting the Marrock's laws. The kid gloves were coming off or else the pack stability was at risk. The needs of the many and all that. My pride was bruised enough as it was, so I turned inwardly to my lupine half. Promise not to go on a murderous rampage? Her imaginary tail thumped happily in agreement. All right, tagging you in. She didn't fully take over. Rather she removed the inhibitions and fears of what he would think of me for abasing myself. Wolves didn't worry about human hang-ups.

I, she, we fell to our knees on the throw rug on the hardwood floor at his feet. Perhaps it was there as a small kindness to those grovelling, like I was. It lent a disturbing reality to the term called out on the carpet.

"I'm sorry, Alpha," we whispered to the thick pile. "Humans have taken advantage of my passive nature in the past. I'm afraid that may happen again in a pack."

"While you are in my territory you are safe, but you will abide by our laws." The power behind his words pressed the air from my lungs and settled into my bones. "Which means you will not leave without a proper escort. There are worse things out there than fey and wolves, pup." There was no hope of disobeying now. We weren't even sure we wanted to.

He knelt gracefully next to me, and faster than thought, his teeth nipped sharply at the side of my throat. Not hard enough to draw blood, but there would certainly be a mark on my pale skin in the morning. To my utter shame a gasping whimper escaped my lips and the slow warmth that had been growing between my legs suddenly flared into a blaze. "Now go to bed."

When I balked at her next point of protocol, the wolf took over just enough to crawl out the door in acknowledgement of the reprimand. Once in the hallway I scrambled to my feet and practically ran upstairs. Someone had retrieved the duffel and my pack, although the rope was conspicuously absent.

Too tired to dig out my pajamas, which were in dire need of a wash anyway, I stripped naked and fell into bed. My wolf's last thought was, _He's a good alpha._ I had fallen into velvety sleep before I could wonder what that meant.

* * *

If her scent had been compelling before, it was maddening in her arousal. Only Ian's presence and her fear of being exploited allowed my humanity to remain in the driver's seat. Otherwise my wolf would have taken her right there on the carpet. Dear God, he even liked the idea of claiming her in front of Ian so that he would know she was mine. As it was, he wanted to curl up and sleep where she knelt. We liked knowing that she would carry our mark in the morning.

"I'll be damned, boss, you may just tame the shrew after all," Ian grinned from his post by the door.

"She's not a shrew, just scared," I sighed and rubbed my face. "Imagine no preparation, no ceremony, simply an emergency Change by an old lone wolf in the middle of the wilderness. Given the choice again, knowing what she does now, I doubt she'd make the same decision."

"Isaac called right before the jailbreak," he said. "Their pack can be ready to greet her at six tomorrow night."

"So soon?" I had to force my lip to remain still and not curl up in a snarl at the thought of Ellie leaving my territory.

"Submissive female spontaneously Changed and leading us all on a merry chase while trying to deny what she is now?" He cast me a wry, sideways look without providing a direct challenge. "Hell, I'd be surprised if they didn't already know about this latest attempt. Which reminds me…" He pulled a thick envelope from a back pocket, drew half of the bills from it, and handed it to me. "You and Mickayla both picked midnight, so you get to split the kitty."

"Speaking of Mickayla, see if she can get some time alone with our little escape artist before she leaves." I tucked the packet into a pocket. "If John wasn't clear on pack politics, I doubt he gave her a comprehensive idea of how much she's changed."

"You mean like how to use her nose?" Ian's grey eyes were twinkling far too mischievously. "Or how her sex drive's gone through the roof? Because she might've already figured that one out on her own." I growled and cuffed him upside the head. "'Night, boss," he said unrepentantly as he strolled off to his room.


	4. Chapter 4

Sleeping in was something I used to enjoy. Nestled in warm sheets while the world outside continued to turn, safe in a cozy cocoon. After the Change, it was no longer so peaceful. Although the house was decently soundproofed for humans, I could hear water running as someone showered. The buzz of an electric razor. Clinking of dishes in the kitchen. After ten minutes of hiding with a pillow over my head, I gave up and burrowed out of the nest of blankets.

I was just pulling my shirt on when Mickayla knocked. A thrill of pride ran through me for recognizing her scent. I was getting better at this!

"Mornin'," I called out and she came in at the tone of invitation in my greeting.

"How was your little adventure last night?" she grinned.

"Mortifying," I grumped while tugging a brush through my hair.

"So if I tell you that there's a betting pool on when you'd make a break for it we can see if werewolves die of embarrassment?" Her grin deepened to flash a lot of pretty, white teeth.

"How about you give me a cut and I don't throw my dirty, wet socks in your face?" I started to reach for the duffel full of dirty clothes. She laughed and handed me a couple of bills, which I stuffed into a pocket without counting. "Next time let me know, I'm not above taking a fall."

"There's going to be a next time?" A perfectly plucked eyebrow rose.

"Eugene and Seattle aren't all that far." I turned away to wrestle my hair into a ponytail. One look in the mirror confirmed that there was no hiding the marks from Angus' bite, so might as well flaunt it. "I'm sure I could get a babysitter to come with." There, that barely had any bitterness to it.

"Don't think of it that way," she shook her head so that the blonde waves swayed back and forth. "Think of it more like sexy bodyguards." I laughed in spite of myself. "Speaking of which." There was a glint in her sea-blue eyes that suddenly made me very suspicious. "You'll want to swear off humans for awhile until you get used to your new strength. Don't want to break your toys."

I stared at her in confusion until comprehension crashed over me, immediately followed by a furious blush. "That is certainly not an issue. Happily single since the divorce finally became final last year."

"Ah," said Mickayla knowingly. "That's why you're so determined to not get involved with a pack. Too much commitment."

"Ugh, it's too early for psychoanalysis," I groaned, rubbing at my face.

"Come on, cranky pants, let's get you some breakfast. New wolves are kinda like kids. If they're cranky, do they need food or sleep? Antsy? Then they need to go run off some energy." She linked her arm and in mine as we set off for the kitchen.

"Gee, thanks for that glowing comparison," I said snidely.

"And in your case, maybe caffeine."

"Give me tea and nobody gets hurt," I nodded.

"Threatening bodily harm before nine am, are you sure she's submissive?" asked a man who had come out of a room behind us, also evidently on the hunt for breakfast.

"Watch this." Mickayla fixed me with a glare and my neck bent against my will till my throat was bared to her. And she hadn't even drawn on any power. I glared at her from the corner of my eye and my face grew flaming hot.

"I wanna try," he said. I met his dark brown eyes with no small amount of anger that he thought he could control me so easily. "How? I'm more dominant than you," he sputtered at Mickayla in confusion. She laughed and wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders.

"She doesn't know or respect you, Brian. Neither her or her wolf are gonna roll over for some stranger unless he seriously pulls rank. Do you think Alan would for anyone off the street?" she asked the somewhat forlorn wolf.

"Who's Alan?" At the stairs, Mickayla released us and led the way down with Brian in back so that I was sandwiched between them. It seemed automatic, like their instincts to protect subtly guided their movements.

"Our submissive and resident quack," Brian answered. I automatically started to bristle at labeling any healer with such an epithet. Then it occurred to me that if they had both a submissive and a female, then they probably had no need of another.

"I'd like to see you call him that the next time he has to patch you up," she said dryly.

The kitchen was sized and equipped to feed a small army. Come to think of it, was there any difference between that and a pack? People moved in vaguely organized chaos, piling plates with bacon, sausage, eggs, hashbrowns, and various baked goods before moving to the dining room on the far side. Mickayla reached around someone, who was busy wrestling the Danish that he wanted from the rest of the basket, grabbed two plates and handed one to me. Being small meant I could easily dart around and through people to get in and out quickly, but I had no idea what the protocol was for seating arrangements so I stuck close to Mickayla and Matt, who'd joined us.

I had never seen a dining table so big, at least a dozen people were already sitting and there was room for more. It was obviously custom made. The kitchen also had a table that was pushed up against the main one so that everyone could be seated. I gave Mickayla raised eyebrows in question.

"You get our fearless leader's right hand side. Normally that's Tom's, Angus' second, but since he's not here you get it as our honoured guest," she said with only a hint of teasing. I gave her a grateful look before taking the seat in question. I stifled my surprise when she and Matt sat to my left. Evidently they were high in the hierarchy to sit next to the second, which I thought was a silly term when Beta would have made much more sense.

"Shane and Matt will be ready to hit the road by 10:30," Angus said casually after I'd made some headway into my meal, trying my best to ignore him. Why he thought I'd be safer with two strange werewolves than on my own, I would never understand. But Matt couldn't be all bad if Mickayla had married him.

"So soon?" I asked just as casually as I liberally doused my hashbrowns with salt and pepper. "I thought I might stick around and get to know ya'll better. If I have to give up my job, there's not much of a reason to go back to Oregon right away. Unless that would be an issue?" Put two or more intelligent beings in a room together and politics could spontaneously erupt in a vacuum. Visiting a pack in another state before even meeting the one back home could potentially cause more than an eruption.

The room went eerily silent as the others waited to see what their Alpha would say. Most of them seemed to be mildly surprised and curious. I was pretty sure they had all noticed the marks on my neck, but no one had said anything nor given it a second glance. Despite the weird fluttery feeling of fear in my chest, I managed to actually look him in the face. Not the eye, of course, but his strong chin, which was one of his few physical aspects that said Alpha. Maybe that was because I always had trouble seeing men with weak chins as dominant.

"The Eugene Pack was hard-pressed to welcome you on such short notice, so no feathers will be ruffled. And despite what that crazy lone wolf might have put in your head, you are free to travel." He gave a small smile that eased some of the tension that had somehow crept into my shoulders. I was no Helen of Troy, the apparent rarity submissive females and the territoriality of werewolves was a powder keg waiting to go off. As much as I enjoyed yanking his chain, the fallout could affect both packs and they didn't deserve that.

Mickayla made a "gimme" gesture at Brian, who sat a few seats down from her. He sighed and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

"Haven't you learned not to bet against my mate yet?" Matt shook his head.

"Hey, didn't she only go out with you because of a bet?" Brian retorted.

"Yeah, and even though I won, I still ended up losing," Mickayla said with mock ruefulness. The banter and the round of chuckles said that it was an old joke.

"Speaking of sore losers," I said to her with a pointed look, "I have some wet, dirty socks in dire need of a wash if there's a washing machine I could use?"

"I'll show you where we keep our poor beleaguered beast chained up in the basement," Shane offered as he stood up with his empty plate. I followed suit since I was done as well. Mickayla slipped me a tenner as I passed.

"Don't scare the poor girl!" someone called out.

"Eh, she's seen your face and it hasn't run her off yet." The teasing faded only slightly as I tagged along behind Shane.

* * *

"O captain, my captain," Mickayla said without a trace of mockery. "If I may beg an audience?" I nodded with a small smile that conveyed exactly what I thought of her false formality.

"Since it's our duty to woo the new girl, some of us were thinking of showing her around town," Mickayla said once we were ensconced in my office. I had a suspicion that the others she was thinking of had no inkling of their implication in her plotting yet. Neither the wolf nor I liked the idea of Ellie leaving our sight.

"Considering how she navigated rush hour traffic to evade Tom, I'd say she knows the area pretty well." I propped one hip on my desk without a care that it put my head slightly lower than if I were standing. Like most of my wolves, she was taller than me anyway and she had never been anything other than proper. Oh sure, she would skirt the bounds of propriety when the situation allowed for it, but never in a manner that would call my authority into question.

"It might be good for her to get out and see that we're not as draconian as that John made us out to be." Translation: prove to her she's not going to lose all of her freedom or she'll bolt again.

"If you are going to manipulate me, you're going to have to do a better job than that." While her point was good, I was not about to let her think I would cave so easily.

"You can talk at her until you're blue in the face, but she won't understand the benefits of a pack until she sees it," said Mickayla. "She's only staying because the evil that you know is better and partly to tweak your tail." I raised an eyebrow at that observation. "Ellie's a modern woman suddenly thrown into submissive wolf mentality and those instincts scare the daylight out of her. So she's going to make us all work for it before she settles down."

"Dominance is dictated by a person's nature before the Change," I shook my head. "She's submissive because she was as a human."

"I think her ex-husband did a number on her, or maybe John, or both," she said with a small frown, which I mirrored at the thought of what might have happened to her. "That's why she's so prickly with any male who tries to play power games with her. If she can relax where there aren't so many wolves, she might tell me more."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked after regarding her thoughtfully for several beats. Part of that time was spent contemplating tearing apart Ellie's ex.

"Hit Pike's Place until she realizes she's not ready for so much public. One or two of us should be able to help her keep control." Mickayla's smile was far too predatory to belong on the face of a therapist.

"One of the biggest tourist traps on a three-day weekend?" I asked in disbelief and gave her the look that idea deserved.

"She still thinks of herself as human and she's likely to screw up pretty badly until she sees that. The sooner we get that out of the way, the sooner she might calm down," she pointed out.

"Take Matt and Shane with you," I sighed and waved at her to go. Not only were they good muscle, but they were both married, even if Shane's wife was human.

"Technically this is pack business, especially since she would work well with Alan, both as a medic and a sub." If she'd said anyone other than Alan, my hackles would've gone up. Their temperaments, although both being submissive, weren't suited for mating. And I got the feeling that Ellie liked her men dominant, despite what she may say. I affected a much put-upon sigh, drew out my wallet, selected a credit card, and passed it to the blonde. She accepted it with both hands, kissed the simple ring on my middle finger, then flashed a smile before dashing off to find her charge.


	5. Chapter 5

"Don't feel guilty, think of it as a bribe," Mickayla said when she'd told me we were going shopping and I was to leave my wallet behind. I stared at her. "Think of trying out packs as like dating. This is a date at a fine restaurant with a dozen roses," she explained. "And just like dates are a way for potential mates to prove they can provide, this is how we prove that we can take care of our members."

"It sounds more like you're looking for an excuse to go shopping," I said dryly. "But you'll harass me until I give in, so ok."

"You already know her so well," Matt said with a hint of a smirk. She elbowed him in the ribs and she only put up a token struggle when he wrapped her up in his arms. I looked away. The whole pack seemed to be much more touchy-feely than I was comfortable with.

"Meh, I'd go for another five minutes, tops, before I pulled the Dommy voice on you." She tossed her head so that Matt momentarily ended up with a face full of her hair.

"Dommy voice?"

"Dominant and mommy. Dommy," Matt explained, nuzzling his wife's hair.

"Oh." I hid my blush by turning to shrug into my jacket.

The first stop was Pike's Place Market, which was already packed in spite of the early hour. Matt led the way to plow a path for us through the crowd with Mickayla following him so that all I could see was her curtain of golden hair and tiny butt. Shane was on my heels, but not so close that he was breathing down my neck. None of the others had wanted to go shopping, preferring instead to play video games. Some things stay the same no matter the species.

I normally treat shopping like I imagine Navy SEALs treat missions: get in, acquire target, and get out ASAP. Mickayla obviously did not subscribe to this philosophy. Most of the items we had acquired so far were for her. I was too busy trying to ignore the din and overwhelming aromas invading my senses. My wolf also wanted to snap at every stranger who bumped into us, which thankfully was only once or twice. Most people took one look at my companions and steered a wide berth.

We were climbing a stairway that seemed to narrow even further and the low ceiling felt like it was pressing down on my head. I swayed on the edge of the stair as the wolf surged up, tearing at me, wanting to run. Pain rippled along my skin until I nearly fell backward until Shane stepped forward until his firm chest allowed me to lean against him. An instant later, Matt and Mickayla flanked me, forcing the flow of shoppers to part around the island that we made.

Normally I didn't like people touching me. Certainly not people I'd known less than a day and not so close as this. But I relaxed into the warmth and comfort of their bodies. Their combined scent surrounded me like a warm, familiar blanket. No one said anything. They didn't have to. Their eyes all had the same look of understanding. My whole body felt raw. If I had shifted in the middle of Pike's Place on Labor Day weekend…

"Reason number four why packs are awesome: dominants can help when you're about to lose it," Mickayla said gently, having seen the panic on my face. She slipped her arm through mine in what was becoming a familiar gesture. "Let's head some place a little quieter."

The weather was a bit too grey and windy for anyone other than locals and werewolves, so we had the waterfront mostly to ourselves as we sipped hot drinks from the first Starbucks location. The movement helped ease the need to run and calm my wolf. After a while, Mickayla paused to check that a bench was dry before sitting and patting the spot next to her. The men wandered a little way upwind, arguing about the game last night.

"Ok fine, you made your point," I sighed. "What was it this time, how long I'd last before going furry?"

"Not on this one," she shook her head and immediately had to pick strands of hair out of her mouth. "But that's not the question you should be asking."

I thought about that for a minute. "What would've happened if ya'll hadn't been there." It was a statement, not a question. She gave it time for the full implications of that sink in.

"You're not used to having to rely on others. Not since the divorce." I glared at her out of the corner of my eye. I did not like being psychoanalyzed at the best of times. This was certainly not one.

"Gee, doc, are ya gonna tell me that I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism, too?"

"If you're so self-aware, pup, then why did we have to have this little exercise?" She bumped my shoulder fairly hard with her own.

"Because you can tell a kid something's hot, but won't believe you till they touch it." I slumped down further on the bench.

"Head of the class," she saluted me with her coffee.

"Don't make me bite you" I grumped.

"Talk like that'll earn you a spot as teacher's pet," she winked. I groaned and shook my head at the pun before taking a sip of my drink. It was something fancy, "full of sugar and cream and calories, everything a growing pup needs" as Mickayla had put it when she'd ordered. Having a dominant around to step in and order was pretty nice when I was intimidated by the menu with its foreign terms.

"Speaking of petting." Mickayla laughed at the segue. "John said that unmated females belong to the Alpha." That whole sentence tasted like rotten lemons, which fanned the embers of my dormant anger. "Shit, is that the reason unmated females are second class citizens? So we're basically whores for the Alpha because we have no other choice? If I won't fuck Angus then I'm delivered to Eugene with a pretty bow? Montana's, what, a 're-education centre' if I don't put out?"

"Montana's for new wolves, those who can't control their wolf, and those who need to heal," she said firmly. "If you don't want to move here or to Eugene, you can stay in Aspen Creek until you find a place and a pack you do like. As for being second class citizens, it used to be that females couldn't participate in dominance challenges and gained status through their mate. While that seems to be slowly changing, it doesn't necessarily mean that you won't be treated with respect."

"Since I couldn't care less about kicking butt and taking responsibility, I don't have to worry about that, which is why I'm considered submissive in the first place," I said with dawning comprehension.

"See, Ian was wrong, you can be taught!" Mickayla laughed with a wink.

"But what about the other thing?"

"Wolves are very possessive," she said slowly, as if having difficulty translating her thoughts into words. "It's supposed to be a way to protect the women, sometimes from unwanted attention from their packmates. Some Alphas may take advantage of what's meant to be a protective role, in much the same way some college professors tend to go after undergrads."

"Are there many Alphas like that?" I had a gut feeling that Angus was not like that, but then again, mama always said that my "picker" when it came to men was broken.

"Rape is not condoned, but since it's not been a problem here, that's something you would have to ask Angus, Matt, or Tom about if you're thinking of going elsewhere. Here, they have to answer to Angus. If any of them so much as even make you uncomfortable he'll have their balls in a sling because you don't have a mate to protect you. They all know that Matt would use their skull as a soup bowl if they so much as looked at me funny."

Her scent had changed subtly with an almost salty quality that had nothing to do with the sea air. She looked down with amusement at me as I sniffed her arm. "You're learning how to smell a lie! About the soup bowl anyway, you don't keep evidence lying around. Good girl," she said teasingly and petted my hair. I mock growled without meeting her eyes. She tapped my nose with a finger. "Bad pup, no cookie." I straightened from my slouch with a laugh. "Come on, let's hit a couple of stores that'll be quieter than tourist trap central."

"Do I have to?" I asked tiredly.

"Sweetie," she slung an arm around my shoulders. "Your pants would be falling off if you didn't have that belt tightened within an inch of its life. I think you might have even managed to put a pleat or two in it like that. You need clothes that fit your new body." She plucked at my jacket, which tented around me before settling again. I wasn't necessarily fat before, but I certainly had carried more than a few extra pounds. Two weeks in the backcountry had fixed that. Oh, and becoming a werewolf helped, too. I groaned in defeat and at the thought of more crowds.

* * *

Mickayla returned triumphant from the hunt, seemingly having gained the energy that the new wolf appeared to have lost. Ellie quickly fled to her room with several large, bulging shopping bags.

"How went the great experiment?" I asked with far more calm than I felt.

"Took it like a champ, boss," Shane answered while still untying his boots. "Lasted ninety minutes."

"I was ready to call it at an hour myself," muttered Matt. "Shrieking kids." We all winced in empathy.

"I'm think that John was doing his best to keep her isolated," Mickayla frowned.

"Do you think he wanted her for a mate?" My wolf paced in agitation. He wanted to taste this John's blood under our fangs.

"Not _The Hills Have Eyes_ , but barefoot and not-pregnant in the kitchen…" she grimaced. I felt my eyes shift to gold then back as I convinced my wolf that there was nothing here to rend. "He told her about unmated females being under the protection of the Alpha, and led her to believe that it's exploitive in nature," she continued once I calmed.

"I see, thank you, Mickayla." I turned on my heel and retreated to my office. Once the door was shut, it was virtually soundproofed against werewolves. It's good to be the king of tech.

"I'm afraid that I don't have any news yet, Angus," Bran said with faint amusement.

"I'm afraid that I do," I said and conveyed Mickayla's impressions of the situation.

"And you can't question her directly without scaring her into running." I could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Thank you. Keep me apprised."


	6. Chapter 6

"Why are we watching _An American Werewolf in Paris_?" I asked.

"It's sort of a tradition," Alan answered. "When someone's newly Changed, we watch a werewolf movie just to talk all the way through it."

"There's no _American Werewolf in Canada_ , but they got French Canadians right?" Shane said. Someone threw a kernel of popcorn at him, which he deftly caught in his mouth.

"Could be worse," Mickayla said mournfully. "They made me watch _Teen Wolf_."

"I thought chicks were supposed to like that stuff!" Shane protested.

"Yeah, if you're thirteen," Mickayla and I said in unison.

"Do you have a teenage girl living with you, Shane?" Alan asked far too innocently. "Because I could have sworn you had every season on DVD."

The bickering that ensued masked the sounds of Angus entering the room, but not even the popcorn could hide his scent. My heart beat faster when he passed behind the couch to settle in the recliner within reach of my left arm. His de facto throne was the highest seat in the room and avoided any breach of protocol by anyone sitting higher than him. I was so painfully aware of his presence that any one of the already crowded couches looked good in comparison to my seat. Everyone who didn't have other obligations had come. I wasn't sure whether it was courtesy, by design, or on accident that I ended up sitting next to the fearless leader.

The movie, surprisingly, was a good teaching tool. They were quick to point out inaccuracies (take off your clothes, first, idiot!), many of which I already knew, as well as what laws both mundane and pack were broken. (Why don't we get crappy underground raves? It's Seattle, why throw one when you can go find one?)

Apparently they also had a cage, also in the basement, for injured wolves and those who had temporarily lost control, like newbies. When someone tried to suggest that it was for kinky purposes, Angus quickly shut them down. No one even complained when Alan and I ranted about the medical inaccuracies for a good ten minutes. (They'd all be so much raspberry jam on the sidewalk. Did they use packing tape on that bandage? What is it even for, anyway? Broken nose? Concussion? Hiding his funny looks?)

"Reason number two: we can have a little 'chat' with your ex," Mickayla said, continuing her list of reasons why packs are awesome, when the Big Bad Evil Guy/love interest's ex was killed at the end.

"Uh, that's really not necessary," I stammered. She looked at me skeptically. The others quieted to listen, which made me stammer out an explanation. "He wanted the perfect 1950's lifestyle with a Suzy Homemaker waiting with dinner when he got home and a mistress on the side. He didn't try very hard to hide it because he thought I'd put up with it." There were several snorts of laughter. "He'd signed a pre-nup thinking I'd never leave. I'll never forget the look on his face when I got everything, which was how I put myself through school. Now he's stuck with some nineteen-year-old he knocked up who can't cook any more than I can."

"I like her, can we keep her?" Alan asked of no one in particular, which elicited more good-natured jibes at his expense as well as general agreement. Or matter that latter was just wishful thinking. It was either that or their testosterone talking. Probably the testosterone because the conversation turned to the various methods of disposing of bodies.

* * *

While the others debated the merits of burial at sea vs woodchippers and lye, Ellie caught my eyes with her own hazel ones before heading upstairs with several empty popcorn bowls. I followed a moment later.

"I-if," she stuttered, swallowed hard, then started again as she loaded the dishwasher. Everyone else knew to leave the cleanup to Ian and Gordon, but she seemed to need something to do with her hands. "What's my timeline for making a decision?"

"The ceremony to bring a new member into a pack is done on the full moon, so eleven days." A look flickered across her face that suggested she was aware of the math, but refrained from interrupting as I gave a brief description of the ritual. To her credit, she didn't bat an eye at the thought of consuming my flesh.

I fell into a practiced relaxed pose in the hopes that it would put her more at ease as it often had with others in the past. Even if she wasn't adept at reading body language, or aware, her wolf would pick up on my cues. I was glad that she had not yet learned to smell emotions and would have to believe what I allowed my face to reveal, which was currently wearing the mask of patient mentor. What I felt, however, was worlds away from what showed.

"If I were to join a pack, what would be expected of me?" I smiled at the conditionals, though they lacked the same determination as before.

"Monthly meetings. A ten percent tithe once you find employment, which goes towards things like helping members get back on their feet, new wolves, and the like. No one would ask you to fight, but any pack would benefit from your medical expertise." Her eyebrows quirked up in surprise. "Fast healing can present its own issues, like bones that aren't set properly." Soft, dusky pink lips pursed in thought as her sharp, sky-blue eyes with a touch of green and honey at the center flickered back and forth in contemplation of various scenarios.

"You already have Alan for that." That was not the conclusion I was expecting.

"As great as Alan is, he's only one person, who has a full time job," I pointed out. "What if, God forbid, he was hurt? Or there were more injured than he could handle at once?"

"Does that happen often?" Instead of appearing stricken at the prospect, or for not having considered those possibilities first, her eyes narrowed shrewdly as if she were already calculating assets and performing triage in her mind.

"Even once is too often." Ellie accepted that non-answer without digging further.

"Even though I have to give it up as a career?" she asked bitterly. That was when realization hit like a hammer. Nursing was more than a job to her. She'd all but said that her ex forbade her to work. Then she took his money to rebuild herself.

"Your wolf will see frightened patients as prey," I said gently. The dismay she tried to hide nearly broke my old, cynical heart. "Even if the humans would let you once they figured out who you are."

"Any specific duties for an unmated, submissive female?" She had turned her back to me to wipe down the counters. Her scent was a confusing mix of fear tinged with arousal. Evidently she found her emotions bewildering as well because when she faced me again a rosy pink blossomed across her cheeks even as a furrow developed between her brows.

"Help out when and where you can as the situation calls. As a submissive, your presence can have a calming effect on us sociopaths."

"I think you mean 'psychopath'," she muttered. A smile threatened to lift the corners of my mouth. "And I seem to have the opposite effect on ya'll."

"How can you help this looney bin if you aren't calm yourself?" Small, white teeth worried at her bottom lip as she digested that. I didn't point out that the males were reacting to her like wolves in rut, which no amount of submissive energy would fix. She was skittish enough as it was.

"I promise that I won't touch you." Disappointment and relief flashed over her face like the shadow of a cloud. To hide a small smile of satisfaction, I leaned until my nose nearly touched the soft flesh below her ear and breathed her in. Her heart beat under her skin like a trapped butterfly. Desire, both hers and mine, spiked sharply in the air. "Not until you ask me first." I forced myself to walk away as casually as I could manage, her stare boring into my back.


	7. Chapter 7

A bunch of the pack was playing football, although compared to the game I knew it looked more like everyone was trying to cream the guy with the ball. In a mud wrestling pit. The shower stalls in the mudroom suddenly made sense. Angus and some of the others were gathered around the grill in the other great male bonding activity of cooking meat over an open flame. The barbecue was big enough to practically roast a whole pig and was set into a stone workstation that swept out on either side to provide counter space. Those of us not involved in either were sitting around drinking and occasionally heckling the game.

"Mickayla," I started hesitantly. "What's the difference between mating and marriage?" Her eyes flared with a sure sign of teasing to come, which quickly died when she noticed my discomfort.

"Mating is like marriage, but on a deeper level and there is no divorce. There's a supernatural component, some couples get telepathy or empathy. It varies from pair to pair," she explained as quietly as I'd asked.

"How does it work with you and Matt?"

"Very well," was all she said with a sly smile that made me blush for the innuendo.

"How does it happen? Does your wolf just say 'dibs' or…?"

"There's a ceremony, and sex." Her smile widened as her mischief got the better of her for a moment before something occurred to her. "Ellie, has your wolf chosen someone?"

"I don't know if it's her, or me, or just this crazy libido. I may look ten years younger than I am, but my hormones evidently decided to go a decade further back." I threw my hands up in exasperation. "Yes, I know that's normal. That was a fun conversation with John, let me tell you. And no, I'm not going to tell you who it is."

"It's Angus." She smiled at my look of shock and dismay, then patted my knee. "We can smell these things." I looked away from her in time to see Ian tackle someone. I couldn't tell if I genuinely couldn't remember the victim's name or if they were just too mud-splattered to recognize.

"I'm just going to go buy a silver bullet now," I muttered with growing horror and shame. Ian and his victim slid a few feet. From our perspective, Ian looked like he was riding the other wolf like a surfer paddling out to the breakers.

"Don't worry about it, we're far less uptight than humans about these sort of things. Most of the guys probably don't know who's caught your eye anyway." Ian and his "surfboard's" momentum took out a couple others like bowling pins. I laughed. It wasn't nearly funny enough for how hard I laughed. It was like a dam had burst in my chest and I laughed harder than I had in weeks, possibly months.

Then things turned ugly. The guy who played surfboard shoved Ian, who swung in retaliation. Eyes flashed blue and bronze amidst the mud masks.

"Enough!" Angus didn't so much yell as raise his voice, yet it still cut through the shout and scuffling of the men. His words washed over me in a hot wave as if they carried his very presence that drove straight through my bones.

"Looks like we've missed the show," a vaguely familiar voice said dryly in the tense silence that followed. I froze when I recognized the scarred newcomer, barely paying attention to the game that was breaking up, focusing instead on the cop and the woman on his arm making the rounds. Judging by the guidance he gave her and the wrap around sunglasses, she was blind, thus making their greetings important in getting her bearings.

"Ellie, this is Tom and his mate, Moira," Mickayla said when they came our way.

"Nice to meet you, Moira," I said, pointedly ignoring the Emerald City Pack's Second.

"Go on, I'll be fine here with Mickayla," Moira gave Tom a small shove towards the grill. He frowned, but escorted her with a kiss to the empty lawnchair next to Mickayla and cast me a warning glare before joining the cluster of guys at the grill.

* * *

I'm not sure how she did it, but Ellie proceeded to make Tom's life miserable without it ever being traced back to her. My suspicions were confirmed at the guilt that flashed across her when Moira got caught in the splash of the fountain of beer that erupted when Tom opened it. Otherwise it could have been simply a run of bad luck that he ended up sitting on his own sunglasses and breaking them, or that his car had mysteriously developed a flat tire. Although how she managed that one without leaving her scent was certainly a mystery, and impressive considering she was lavished with so much attention from the unmated males that she hardly had a minute alone.

"What possessed you to go hiking by yourself in the wilderness?" asked Sean, one of her newest admirers that she'd just met.

"Because I could," she said after eyeing him with amusement.

"Is this one of those because it's there things?" he asked skeptically.

"A little." Her laughter involved her whole body. Head tilted back, the sound bubbled up from her very toes. The smile that lit her face every time seemed to come as a surprise, as if she wasn't expecting to be amused. Perhaps she hadn't had cause to laugh in a long while. "I'd saved up my vacation time to do something bucket-list worthy to celebrate the finalization of a long, ugly divorce. I made a bunch of slips of paper with different activities and pulled one from a hat. Then I threw a dart at a map of North America."

"That was stupid," Sean frowned.

"Obviously." A corner of her mouth titled up ruefully. "Have you ever been insecure? What am I saying? Handsome, dominant male, of course not." She patted Sean's arm before continuing. I had to swallow back a growl at the interaction. "I'd spent most of my life being insecure. Heck, I only did cheerleading because it was the South and it was what all the girls did."

"Give me a minute. I'm having difficulty reconciling the concept of you being insecure," Moira said.

"I lived by what I thought was I supposed to do," she said, more to the witch than to the male. "Met Will, dropped out of college to marry and support him while getting his degree, because of course I could always get mine later."

"So he has a name," Mickayla said dryly. "We've taken to calling him the Evil Ex." That earned another startled laugh.

"But look at what happened," Sean said, still frowning.

"It was still my choice to make," she shrugged without a hint of regret.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey, Moira, would you take a short walk with me?" While I was still bearing a grudge against her mate, I genuinely liked the witch, who just laughed at me when I was sniffing her and trying to figure out the strange new nose-tingling smell. She informed me that it was magic.

"Ok, spill it," she whispered once we were out of earshot.

"Spill what?"

"I'm blind, not deaf, so don't try to lie to me." She poked me in the shoulder.

"I want to test something. I was wondering if we could wander up the main road," I admitted.

"You're trying to bypass the geis by having me act as escort," she laughed. Obviously the rumour mill carried the tale of my misdemeanour to her. "Yeah, he didn't word that one quite right, did he?"

"I figure 'proper escort' is subject to interpretation. A witch has got to count, right? Besides, if this doesn't work, I'll steal Ian's Ford Escort," I shrugged.

"If this loophole works, Angus is going to be pissed," she warned.

"Just keeping my options open."

"Is it really that bad?"

"No," I sighed. "Angus wants me for the pack." Ugh, that was weird to say. And I said so. "I don't like to be tied down. Outside of the bedroom anyway."

"Fyi, normal handcuffs won't work now. Just saying." A faint blush coloured her cheeks. "Wolves can be just as promiscuous as us humans, but once they start falling for something that's it. Done. Game over. End. Finito. Do not pass go, go directly to mating."

"Not helping, witch." As a human, she couldn't smell moods, could she? I was scared to ask how she knew or where she was going with this.

"Then try this on for size: you're afraid to play bedwarmer. But you're also too afraid to tie yourself to him in a non-sexy fashion. Maybe instead of worrying about what he wants, ask your two halves what they want," she suggested.

"It's a little early for that," I frowned.

"The only two people I know whose wolves chose before their human parts knew within hours of meeting each other. Tom and I fell the first time we met."

"I did the whole love at first sight bit, and have no desire to be that stupid again. Here we are," I said when our path went from gravel to blacktop. I dropped her arm momentarily to step back and forth from the pack property to the road with ease. "Please don't tell anyone about this."

"I won't lie, but I won't volunteer any info either," warned Moira.

"That's all I ask." I held my arm out to brush against hers so she could take it at her leisure.

"Now Tom's going to ask what we talked about, so let's get our story straight. Cop and wolf instincts, killer combo when it comes to interrogations. So how about that popular sports team?"

"When's football season over again?" I asked mournfully.

"Superbowl's in February. But that's only a problem if you're stuck at the house on game days. If you are, you'll have to come kidnap me. I'd offer to come rescue, but for some asinine reason they won't give me a driver's license."

"Hey, do you want to drive? You can take my Jeep for a spin in the driveway."

"You're kidding." Dark brows rose over the sunglasses.

"I never kid when it comes to shenanigans. I take my shenanigans very seriously." I fished my spare set of keys out from under the back bumper and unlocked the doors. "This is the ignition key." I handed the ring to her with the one in question pressed into her fingers. "Let's hop in and I'll show you where to stick it."

"Ooh, no one's said that to me since high school," she smirked.

After we both buckled up, I talked her through starting the engine and shifting into gear, guiding her hand when appropriate. After getting the pedals sorted out, we inched forward. Figures were coming around the house, summoned by the sound of the strange car.

"Turn the wheel a quarter turn to your right." We slowly arced so that it was obvious to the spectators that the blind witch was driving. I blithely waved while continuing to give verbal directions, only guiding the wheel once or twice. "Now gun the gas and turn all the way to the left." We squealed with laughter as we spun around, gravel crunching and spraying under the tires. Instinct caused her to left off the gas before we continued to spin out and possibly lose control.

"And put her in park and turn off the engine so your mate and my Alpha can come rip me a new one." Even though he wasn't officially my Alpha yet in any sense of the word, the words felt right.

"Should we make a break for it?" she giggled.

"Eh, we'd have to return sometime. I don't like you well enough yet to pull a Thelma and Louise." I pocketed the keys and propped a foot on the dash.

"Is there a problem, officer?" Moira asked innocently as Tom approached her open window.

"What were you thinking?" Tom bellowed. At her, not me. My own personal bane was yanking my door open.

"Out," he snapped. Oh this was too easy.

"Yes, you are outside."

"Get out of the car." He bit off each word. He must have seen the glint in my eye because he added, "Now." He slammed the door behind me hard enough to rock the poor car.

"You would have walked away if she'd managed to roll the Jeep, but she's human," he snapped. There was definitely something wrong with me because the danger and power that rolled off of him when he was mad did very naughty things to me.

"A) I know far more about the fragility of humans than you do. B) We never went over fifteen mph. That little show was really just shifting the weight around. And C0, at most it would have tipped onto the side I was on. We even wore seatbelts."

"So instead you put yourself at risk for a little stunt?"

"Or maybe I understand what it's like to be denied certain freedoms," I said quietly, but no less feeling.

"Give me the keys."

"I already gave you keys. Check with Shane, he should have the original set." I bounced the spares once in my palm before chucking them into the ditch full of murky water by the road. I could do this submission thing as long as I found enough loopholes.

* * *

After her little act of defiance, which had happened with the Jeep between us and the rest of the pack thus obscuring her actions, she mingled quite thoroughly. Somehow she'd picked up the trick of gauging distance and hearing so as to pitch her voice quietly enough to avoid being overheard. No one knew of our exchange. Too bad that she was adept at following the letter if not the spirit. I'd have liked to punish her. Thoroughly and publicly.

I didn't see what pathetic excuse started the fight. But I knew who started it. Ellie was standing with her back to Ian and Gordon, who had borne the brunt of Ian's territorial aggression during the football match. The next anyone knew, Ian went flying. Shane had just enough warning to grab Ellie's arm and try to drag her to safety.

Later, I realized I should have broken up the fight, immediately meted out punishment for putting others at risk. If I had, the two males might not have survived my wrath. But I would never regret running to Ellie's crumpled body, surrounded by chunks of brick and blood splatters.


	9. Chapter 9

Getting slammed by four hundred pounds, give or take, is painful no matter who you are. Being caught between this freight train of flesh and a stone wall, such as the one surrounding the grill setup, is taking the term "between a rock and a hard place" to its most agonizing extremes. Once the tweety birds spiraling my head dissipated, Alan and Mickayla filled my gradually returning vision. Angus stalked off to go bash some heads together, judging by his face.

"Anybody get the number o' that Mac truck?" I groaned, my accent thick from the pain that was already setting in. Where's shock when you could really use it?

"Can't be too bad if she's making bad jokes," Mickayla said to Alan. Then in order to distract me from his poking and prodding she said with a roll of her eyes towards where I assumed Ian and Gordon were. "They're just like teenage boys when they're trying to show off."

"There're easier ways o' getting' my attention. 'Hey, you' works fine." I hissed through clenched teeth when Alan inspected my shoulder. "Dislocated, probably torn rotator."

"Amongst other things," he agreed mildly as he did something that should have been a violation of the Geneva Convention. "Couple of cracked ribs, mild concussion. Ever dislocated anything before?"

"Nope, but's gonna hurt like a mother."

Alan nodded to Mickayla and before I could react, they set the joint back in place with a sickening crunch. The world swam in a nauseous haze, but I didn't pass out. Woo!

"Lemme know when I can return the favour," I groaned. "In spades."

"The rotator'll heal on its own in about a week. Compared to months for a human." Let's hear it for regeneration. "But your scapula's split, and even if your joint's set, your shoulder's still messed up."

"That the medical term, doc?"

"Recovery will still take weeks. If you shift, you'll heal faster."

"No." I shook my head too fast and the world wobbled.

"Tell me, is this normal?" Alan carefully lifted my right, injured arm. Around the blinding agony I dimly hard disturbing sounds that should be coming from a cereal bowl instead of a person.

"Fuck all ya'll," I panted when I could breathe again.

"No thanks," he said blandly. "Cute as you are, I don't want to fight the others over you. The longer you take to shift, the more you'll heal wrong." Improperly healed rotator cuffs are a bitch and can take a year or more of PT to correct. That's not even taking into account complications from broken bones knitting without being set right. Logic and experience said that he was right. The only problem was that the wolf wanted to come out and play too much. And there were too many humans. Pain and panic, exacerbated by the wolf coming to the fore, paralyzed me till I could only shake my head faintly.

"Don't make me use the Dommy voice," Mickayla said sternly. I opened my eyes to let her see the fear that chilled me. Or maybe that was finally shock. Could werewolves go into shock?

A pair of familiar suede loafers stood at the edge of my vision. A moment later Angus crouched to fill my field of vision, which was threatening to narrow again. "Ellie, stop this nonsense and shift." There was no power other than the natural force of his personality, but the order allowed me to stop worrying. His casual tone of authority reminded me that they would keep me from gorging on a human buffet.

"Come on, you don't need an audience for this." Mickayla moved to help me up. Angus beat her to it, scooping me up in his arms so that my shattered shoulder wasn't pressed against him. This unnatural strength still took me by surprise. Of all the places, he took me inside the house and downstairs where he set me on the edge of a bed. There were shining metal bars over the narrow windows set high in the wall. Pretty comfy digs for a cage.

"My safeword's 'apples'," I panted as my body settled into its new position with no small amount of complaints.

"Good to know." The dry bit of humour coming from Angus was so unexpected that I giggled and immediately regretted it when the motion rippled through my battered body.

Alan and Mickayla helped me undress while Angus stood over us, a statue of barely controlled rage. I tried to protest the men's presence, but was immediately shot down by all three. Resoundingly so.

"Please be gentle, it's my first time," I said tightly as they drew off my pants and underwear. You never realize how much you move any part of your body until it's injured and you try to move it. Once I was naked, that was when I freaked out. "I can't."

"Sshh," Angus said soothingly as he carefully held me against his chest. It was like a warm brick wall, but far more comfortable than the one I'd just been introduced to. My mind and hormones swung back and forth between embarrassment and pleasure at being naked in his arms until I sensed Alan crouching on the bed behind me. Damn, he still had to set the shoulder blade. I didn't even have time to tense before his deft, quick hands crunched the pieces back into place.

After awhile I realized that Angus was saying my name and stroking my hair. "To shift you have to let the wolf take over. You'll not likely have control, nor will you be able to change for several hours. We're going to have to lock you in so you don't hurt anyone, or yourself."

So many things had been spinning out of my control I wasn't ready to relinquish any of it. But the wolf didn't care. She wanted to come to meet Angus and the pack. The instant I thought about passing off the reins she seized the chance. I quickly closed my eyes not only because it hurt like a bitch, but because I couldn't stand watching my own flesh ripple as muscle and bone crunched and reformed. I almost wondered if letting everything heal relatively slowly wouldn't have been preferable.

They were making soothing noises and urging me to be quiet at first, then they realized I was cursing under my breath in between soft whimpers and whines. "Son of a mother biscuit eating cracker" made them laugh. You can't curse in front of patients, even if they're coding. Instead you get creative with alternatives to four letter words. At some point the torture ended and everything went black.

* * *

"What were you thinking?" To an outsider, my voice would be deceptively soft. Ian and Gordon, as did the rest of the pack, knew better. The two males knelt with heads bowed and necks bared. My wolf wanted to rend that soft flesh. They were dirty and still battered from when they were separated with more force than was strictly necessary, but entirely appropriate. "I've known newly Changed wolves with better self-control than what you displayed today. If you had hit Moira instead, she could've lost full use of that arm." They winced as my voice sharpened and cracked across them like a whip.

"Because of your stupidity, Ellie is undergoing her first intentional shift locked in the safe room after everything I've done to disprove the half-truths that crazy Lone fed her." I leaned in close and whispered, "If she chooses to leave because of your idiocy, I'll take it _very_ personally." Their already white faces blanched even further before I straightened.

"You will beg Ellie for forgiveness. You are her slaves for the next week. You are not to look her in the eye. I don't want to see her lift anything heavier than a glass of water. If she asks you to jump, one asks how high and the other holds the hoop. You will wash, dry, iron, fold her laundry, and shine her shoes. You have one week to arrange for repairs to the barbecue. For the rest of the weekend, the two of you are on cooking and dish duties. The pack cars, Ellie's Jeep, and my car could all use detailing. Oh, and I expect the house and grounds to be spotless by the end of the weekend." They'd be so busy they wouldn't have the time nor the energy to lose their heads again. And by working their tails off, everyone would be reminded that this was a warning for anyone else who might do the same.

"If the rest of you find yourselves at the mercy of your instincts, you will take it elsewhere and handle it in the usual fashion. If not, then you are a liability and will be dealt with accordingly." I glared expectantly at the two boys, who were really old enough to know better. They quickly muttered, "Yes, Alpha" before scrambling to their feet and scattering for one of the many tasks given. I desperately wanted to give chase and slaughter them for injuring what was mine.

I gave a brief nod to Tom, who acknowledged with a bow from the neck before herding everyone inside. Once everyone was gone, I stared at the broken bricks and patio stained with Ellie's blood until Ian and Gordon approached hesitantly with a hose, soap, and stiff bristled brushes. I snarled at them as I strode back towards the house.

Alan was sitting in the armchair outside the safe room. A man with an impossibly large sword faced a dragon on the corner of his paperback. Only the delusional would fight something like that with a melee weapon. The alleged "hero" would be barbecue before he got close enough to swing that tool of overcompensation.

"Hey." He set down the book and sat up from his slouch. "Passed out still, but she'll be fine as long as she doesn't hurt it again any time soon."

"Thanks. Go on up. I'll sit with her." I scrubbed a hand through my hair and touched my pocket to ensure that my phone was there. Nervous habits.

"Sure thing." Alan looked like he would offer to stay until he saw my eyes. "Too bad they couldn't spare the brain cells if you knocked their heads together."

I smiled in spite of my murderous mood. That was the magic of a submissive. Though I never felt calm around Ellie. Frustrated, annoyed, fiercely protective, half-crazed, yes. At peace, no. Then again, she had yet to feel safe or comfortable since the Change.

"Alan." He paused on the stairs. "Have Ian and Gordon bring down meat and water."

"Aye, aye." He'd been spending far too much time with Mickayla.

I settled into the chair and picked up the dog-eared novel he left behind. The main character had just finished his backstory when Tweedledee and Tweedledumb placed their offerings in the safe room before locking it back up. Ian set a cup of coffee, two cream, on the small table beside me before slinking away. They stank of fear. Good.

The handsome, virile Chosen One had just met the feisty ingénue, who was of course a princess in hiding, when Ellie woke up.


	10. Chapter 10

Blood. Meat. Standing hurt, but hunger pulled me forward. I devoured the cool flesh. Tastes better hot. Still squirming. I licked my muzzle clean and searched for an escape. A box that smelled of Pack. Alan. Mickayla. Angus. Mine.

"Ellie." My ears swiveled toward the door. Alpha. I answered with a yip. "Stop pacing or you'll hurt yourself."

He was out there. I wanted out. I scratched at the door. "Ellie, calm down." He was closer. I could smell him. He smelled so good. Like home. I threw my good shoulder into the door to show what I wanted. Sharp twinges ran down my sides in protest.

"Stop," the Alpha said sharply. I whined and pawed at the door again. Light flooded in when it opened. He crouched to look me in the eye. I stared for a second before shoving my head into his chest to inhale his scent. Mine.

"You are beautiful," he whispered and buried his fingers in my ruff, quickly finding all the itchy and good spots that soon had my tongue lolling out of my mouth in sheer bliss. "Who knew you'd be more biddable as a wolf?" He laughed when I gave a cursory growl, my thumping tail giving me away.

"Well, you did eat all your dinner. Are you going to be a good girl?" He chuckled when I pulled away from his wonderful hands to stare at his nose in disdain. "Remember, no eating the humans." He stood and I bumped his leg with a hip in agreement. My stomach was full anyway.

My Alpha patiently slowed so I could limp up the stairs, leaning on him as needed. The pack was playing a card game in the living room. I pressed my unhurt side against him when they fell silent to stare at me. Someone gave a long whistle that sent my ears back. My Alpha glared at the offender.

"Hey gorgeous," Mickayla called out. "Come sit by me." I glanced up at him. He nudged me towards her with a knee. "We should put your name on your collar as 'Comet'." She drew a line down her nose.

"Or Pepper," someone suggested.

"She's silvery grey with a teardrop of black on her nose and some on her rump like someone dumped pepper all over," Tom explained to the witch, who laughed.

The pack smelled different. More scents. Couldn't sit still. It was like I'd never met them before. They laughed, ignored, nudged, or petted me as I circled to sniff everyone in turn. Even the human mates. Mickayla and Alan taught me that belly rubs are wondrous things. When I carefully rolled to my feet again, I looked for my Alpha.

The witch was touching him. Her hand was on his arm. He was mine. A snarl lifted my upper lip and my legs tensed under me. A hand grabbed my ruff firmly. So tight I couldn't turn to snap at it.

"Stop it," Mickayla hissed. "Unless you want to go back in time out?" I lowered my head and rolled my eyes up to her in contrition. She held my gaze until I looked away, then released me.

The witch was no longer touching my Alpha. I yawned, but didn't fully relax until the witch and her mate left.

* * *

A vibration in my pocket notified me of an incoming call. One glance at the caller ID and I quickly strode outside. Not that I was concerned with the pack overhearing the conversation. I was more concerned with Bran being subjected to the game of Cards Against Humanity that was happening in the living room.

"Good evening, Marrock," I answered respectfully.

"Charles and Anna tracked the Lone out of the mountains, where he appears to have taken a vehicle," he said without preamble.

"You believe he's following Ellie," I said, trying to ignore the ice quickly filling my veins. Sometimes, in the beginning, wolves are drawn to the people they Change. The strength of the bond can vary according to the strength of the people involved and any pre-existing relationship between the two. If John was using this connection, then it wouldn't be difficult to trace her steps until within range to sense the link and find her.

"They're following the route that she took," Bran said in echo of my thoughts. Some believed him to be a mind reader. I preferred to think of it as clever deduction. "It would be foolish to assume that he hasn't heard of the new wolf simply because he's been in the hinterlands." The online message boards and email lists were full of this latest gossip. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if news of the day's events were already circulating.

"I'll put the pack on alert," I assured him. "But not Ellie."

"You think she might run again?"

"Quite frankly, she's difficult to anticipate," I said dryly.

"Such as doing donuts with a blind witch behind the wheel?" the Marrock asked in amusement, confirming the speed of the rumour mill. "Colin's recovered from his fit of pique after hearing of her escapades. I believe his exact words were 'Good luck to the poor bastard.' Perhaps it was best if she came to Montana after Charles finds the Lone." That manipulative old wolf wanted to use her as bait to catch John. My hackles bristled at the thought.

"She's settling in quite well, despite her impulsive nature," I replied as smoothly as I could manage. "After all, she's hardly climbing giant cranes or 'borrowing' Lamborghinis."

"But she is growling at humans." I was going to dock the ears and tail of whomever spread that tale.

"I believe it was protective instincts coming into play as I was escorting Moira to her seat." At least, that was what I hoped was the case, yet there was no way of knowing for certain until morning. "You know how the smell of magic can trigger these sort of things in those who are unaccustomed to it."

"I see." Although his expression would undoubtedly be impassive, I desperately wanted to see his face to try and determine what was going on behind those two words. "Keep me updated," he said before ending the call in his customary, if abrupt, manner.


	11. Chapter 11

The Emerald City Pack evidently had a warren in a warehouse for most of their hunts and full moons, but they decided to take advantage of the three-day weekend to head for the woods. Like most cities in the Pacific Northwest, Seattle was within a reasonable drive of hunting grounds suitable for a pack.

"Stop it," Angus said for the third time. I stopped jiggling my leg, but the nervous twitch would start up as soon as I stopped focusing on it.

"Pretty sure we got some duct tape back here that'll fix that," Shane drawled behind me. While the SUV had plenty of room, it was still silly that the six-foot tall man had climbed into the backseat, leaving shotgun for my five-foot three-inch self.

"Put it to better use on your mouth," I shot back. Mickayla was right. Some of the guys with significant others were more like brothers. Only instead of duct tape when we were kids, my brother had used our dad's issued handcuffs in addition to the duct tape and shoved me in a closet one afternoon.

Which brought my mind back around to the current dilemma. I'd called my parents and brother that morning for the first time since I crossed the Canadian border at the pre-determined check-in time. Did I tell them? I hadn't yet committed to the pack, so telling them I might move to Seattle was jumping the gun. Evidently the tic was back because Angus rested a heavy hand on my knee to still it. Not only did my leg still, but I outwardly froze at the contact. Inwardly, warmth spread outward from the touch.

* * *

Anxiety was pouring off of Ellie in waves and it was making the wolf and me agitated. I had to force my hand back to the steering wheel when she tensed at my touch. "What has you so wound up?"

"I talked to my family this morning," she sighed and turned away to look out the window.

"Oh?" I glanced at Shane in the rearview mirror. He shrugged. Apparently it was news to him, too. She must have made a conscious effort to keep the call private, and evidently succeeded. No easy feat in a house full of wolves. Depending on what she told them could cause problems for the pack, if not the precarious reputation of our kind should they make it a public issue.

"Don't worry, I didn't tell them anything." She actually sounded regretful. It was no longer forbidden to tell anyone other than a spouse, but her particular situation would make for bad PR. Especially if she insinuated that she was being held against her will.

"Good." She whipped around to stare at me.

"Good? What am I going to tell them if, when, I move? Or that I quit my job?"

"Does it matter?" For some reason Shane hid his face in a hand and shook his head.

"Up and changing careers and moving to a new city without a job lined up aren't really indicators of a stable person. If I don't give them a good enough reason, then they'll hunt me down and sit on me until I tell them," she exclaimed.

"They would try," I frowned.

"Don't even think about threatening my family," she glared. "And holidays. It's not like I can explain the age reversal away with some really good cream when I do see them for Christmas and Thanksgiving."

"I think I got this one, boss," Shane said with a meaningful look in the rearview. I nodded reluctantly.

"Our beloved leader here's a bit older than the rest of us," he said to Ellie. "So it's a little hard to relate to those of us with living relatives. That being said, coming out to them, especially so soon, might create more problems than it solves."

"Meaning it'll be hard on them waiting to see if I go rabid," she said bluntly. "Ok, the only good reason they'd accept without pushing is if I moved for work. Now I just have to figure out what I want to be when I grow up."

"You don't have to see them over the holidays," I pointed out. Shane was shaking his head again. Ellie stared at me. "We do Thanksgiving and Christmas at the house."

"They're my family," she said slowly.

"Yes?" What was she getting at by repeating the obvious?

"I am not just going to walk away from them," she said hotly.

"No one's saying that," Shane said quickly, shooting me another look. "But maybe hold off on visiting until you're more settled here."

As much as I wanted to point out the foolishness of maintaining such close relationships with humans, Mickayla's voice echoed in my head, reminding me that complete isolation from one's human life is de-stabilizing for new wolves. As much as I disliked anything that might take her from me, she had been ill-treated enough by men who isolated her. I would do everything in my power to keep her. She would be a strong asset to the pack, true, but more importantly she was mine. She just didn't know it yet.

"We're getting close, you might want to start changing now." It was my turn to shoot Shane a look. "Unless you're ready to drop trou in front of everybody," he said more to me than to her.


	12. Chapter 12

Stripping in a car isn't the easiest of tasks. My last change I'd managed to view clinically due to the injuries, but without that context I felt far more exposed. It was exponentially more awkward because I was acutely aware of the two men in the car, even though Shane's view was obstructed by the seat between us.

Angus kept his eyes on the road, and his presence firmly contained as usual, it still felt far more intimate than simply getting naked. His body heat brushed against my side like an affectionate cat, teasing my skin into pleasurable goosebumps. Too bad that same flesh was about to be essentially ripped apart. I shoved aside the urge to rub up against him to concentrate on another animalistic aspect.

Coaxing my furry side to the surface was easier this time knowing that there was no one here to injure. Not that I thought that I would hurt Angus even at my most out of control, and possibly not even Shane. And it wasn't because they smelled like family, not even because Angus was Alpha. He smelled like home until it felt like he'd settled into my subconsciousness.

According to how Mickayla and Alan explained the pack bonds, there would be an even stronger connection between him and me. The thought of having him even more in my head was more than a little terrifying. It was bad enough that I felt like I was in heat every time we touched, which was evidently common and not necessarily sexual amongst werewolves. And everybody could sense it. Before I could follow that train of thought any further I allowed the pain to derail it.

* * *

I grasped the steering wheel so tightly I half expected it to crumple under my grip. All I could glimpse was flashes of white flesh from the corner of my eye, a pair of well-formed legs, strong from an active lifestyle before the Change. It took all of my not inconsiderable willpower to resist reaching across to stroke the curve of her thigh, brush my fingers along the arch of her neck, tangle my hands in her thick hair. I shifted to hide the effect she had on me and hoped she hadn't yet learned to scent more sensual cues.

My feverish imagination provided images of the night before when I checked on her after she'd retired for the evening still on four paws. She lay curled into a ball on top of the covers and naked as a jaybird. I wanted to nip at her flawless skin gleaming like a beacon in the dim light. Instead, I covered her with a quilt and shut the door firmly on my way out.

As she shifted the urge slid to a no less primal one. I wanted to pull over and stand guard over her as she changed. I even wanted to drive Shane away from her while she was so vulnerable. As much as I wanted to protect her against all other males, she still wasn't completely at ease wile alone with anyone other than Mickayla or Alan. Thus why I insisted on Shane riding with us.

Ellie finished by the time we reached the trailhead. The trails here were ribbons of mud after the rains and were largely deserted, leaving off-trail areas and game trails free for us without needing to consider humans.

The speckled grey wolf flowed gracefully out of the vehicle behind me and pressed close to my leg, unaware of the signals she was sending. She was small in her wolf form, too. I doubted that her weight doubled. Shane smiled at my silver shadow until I bared my teeth at him. She only left when I began to disrobe, but not wandering far, as if she could sense my need to keep her in sight.


	13. Chapter 13

The loam of the forest floor was springy under my paws as they dug through the layers of pine needles and underbrush. I wanted to stay close to my Alpha's side, to run and play with him through the trees. Since it was my first hunt with the pack, I trailed behind to observe and learn their tactics. I wasn't fast enough to keep up with his longer legs, anyway.

The myriad of aromas was overwhelming. I caught a rabbit! More fur than anything. It was surprisingly fast. I was faster. The blood was hot and sweet on my tongue. Another smell tugged at my nose. Something small and furry. And probably tasty.

* * *

We swiftly brought down a four-point black-tailed deer without any injuries worth mentioning. After its last death throes, I stopped to ensure that the newest member got a portion. The speckled female was conspicuously absent from the roiling mass of feasting wolves. No scent, meaning she had split off some time ago. Since she was not yet bonded, I had no means of knowing what had happened. If she was running again, doubling back to the vehicles while the Pack hunted was a clever and effective method.

I met the golden brown gaze of the chocolate coloured wolf who was my second before slipping away. He would mind the Pack while I retrieved my wayward wolf.


	14. Chapter 14

My nose led me on a merry run, following the intricate layers of scents left by the inhabitants of the forest. Panting, I stopped to drink from a wide, shallow stream that tumbled down a short ridge a little way downstream. The water was cold and pure like a glacier on my tongue.

The pool at the base of the waterfall looked perfect for playing in. Maybe my Alpha would enjoy it, too. I hadn't heard or smelled the Pack since they brought down their prey, yet they weren't far. Turning to climb back up the steep bank, a rust coloured wolf with black socks on his forelegs blocked the path.

* * *

I picked up her scent quickly, entwined with that of a squirrel. I soon discovered the carcass. From there, I barely need to track to the stream I heard in the distance to which she had beelined after her kill.

The smell that ghosted her steps lifted my upper lip in a snarl. A strange male with a sour undertone that seemed to coat my mouth with its taint. My hackles rose higher and higher as I silently raced to the river.

Bursting through the treeline, I only paused long enough to see that the male had backed the small female into the deepest part. She was obviously tiring from fighting the current and dodging her assailant. Hurtling down the embankment, I leapt between the rocks that broke the surface here and there. He met my spring attack with bared fangs.


	15. Chapter 15

My Alpha barrelled into the one who Changed me, two sets of jaws snapping vainly, twisting to gain the advantage. Smoke grey darkening to charcoal slammed rust red into one of the partially submerged boulders. The sharp snap of breaking bones sang out above the roar of the water.

I darted in to nip at the lone's flank, a shallow gash that healed quickly as he went for my Alpha's throat. He reared up to slash out at the red wolf's face, scoring his eye. In retaliation, the interloper tore into the exposed, almost white belly.

Growling, I bit deeply into his hind leg and shook my head to saw at the flesh. There was another gratifying crack as the bone started to give way. Pain flashed when he kicked me into the stone.

* * *

I had been trying to draw the lone away to let the female retreat to safety. Instead, she hamstrung him. My vision drowned in crimson when her limp body slid into the frigid water. Sweet blood filled my mouth, but my teeth didn't meet in the flesh of his throat before he tore away. His lifeblood drifted away in the stream.

Before he could heal, I latched onto his throat again. His teeth snapped futilely at where he expected me to be. The red-wolf collapsed long before he bled out. The female slid out from under him before he toppled. She was covered in gore from the wound she gouged in his belly while he was focused on me as the threat.

She let me approach, muscles taut until they trembled as I inspected her for injuries. Once I was satisfied that she was unhurt save for a few bruises, she did the same to me. My tongue lolled in amusement. The few scratches the lone had managed to score had long since healed. When she completed her assessment, she faced me. Head and tail low, but not tucked. Neither meek nor challenging. Tentatively, she licked at the blood on my mouth in a gesture of recognition for our respective roles as Alpha and submissive. Before she could withdraw, I gently took her muzzle in my jaws and gave a tiny shake in reprimand.


	16. Chapter 16

Angus kept watch over me as I changed back at the trailhead. Dressing quickly, I returned the favour. While I was confident that no one would challenge when he was unable to fight back, I followed the urge, even though the thought of me fighting off anyone while on two legs was laughable.

Tearing my eyes away from the rippling, sweat-sheened lean muscles of his back, I forced myself to walk to the other side of the SUV while he dressed.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, turning at the sound of gravel crunching behind me. I had to avert my gaze from the ridges and valleys of his chest as he pulled his shirt on. "I wasn't trying to run off. If I'd known John would… I'm sorry," I finished lamely before I said anything I'd regret. And before my human psyche could focus on the danger he'd been in.

He stared at me for a long while with those unfathomably dark eyes before speaking. "Why didn't you call for help?" I blinked in confusion. Of all the responses, I was not expecting that.

"I didn't think of it," I shrugged. "He was my problem to deal with." That was obviously the wrong answer when his face fell into its familiar scowl.

"He trespassed on my territory and attacked a submissive, unmated, female who's also a medic. That makes it Pack business, the matter of him forcibly Changing you aside." The growl of his voice rolled over me, dark, dangerous, and sensual like a blade wrapped in velvet.

"John didn't force me, it was an accident," I frowned.

"You recall nothing of the accident." I shook my head. Memory issues weren't uncommon. "Are you confident that you weren't attacked instead?"

* * *

Dusty pink lips parted as Ellie absorbed my words. Her hazel eyes widen and she sagged against the Escalade in realization. "He wanted a mate, so he made one," she said flatly. That was one potentiality I hoped to conceal from her.

"Quite possibly."

"I wanna go back up there an' kick his face in again," she pushed herself off the vehicle with a growl, accent thick with anger. "I'd say thank ya for savin' my bacon, but ya suspected this all 'long."

"The people the Marrock sent to find John reported that he had come down off his mountain and headed southwest. Assuming that he found your ID, if you didn't tell him yourself, he knew where you lived. A quick check of the message boards would tell him of the exploits of a new, mysterious female in Seattle, as well as where we were hunting this weekend," I shrugged and leaned against the SUV.

"And ya didn't think to warn me?" she cast her habitual glare my way.

"And add more stress to your already considerable load?" I cocked a brow. "While you have demonstrated a remarkable level of control thus far, I saw no need to worry you unduly. However, I didn't expect you to go off on your own." Or for her to have slipped out from under the noses when the entire pack was looking out for her. Either everyone had suddenly been stripped of all their senses or she was stealthier than she let on, failed escape attempts aside.

To my astonishment, the anger abruptly ebbed from her scent as she stopped in her pacing to spin towards me. "All right," she conceded, the Southern twang fading as well. "You have a point. But from here on out, if something affects me then I deserve to know so that I can accordingly. If you have my best interests at heart, as you say, then keeping me ignorant not only puts me at risk like it did today it also pisses me off as you can right well imagine."

"Permitted that the knowledge doesn't put you at greater risk, then we are agreed." Her eyes narrowed at the caveat, but I continued before she could speak. "I assume that means you intend to join us?"


	17. Chapter 17

"I-I suppose I have," I stammered. Evidently, somewhere in the whirlwind of the past three days I'd subconsciously made a decision.

"Good," Angus flashed his brilliant, movie-star worthy smile. "I was hoping for a chance to court you."

"Uh, wait, what?" I stuttered as wolves began pouring out of the woods. At first, I wasn't sure if I was grateful for the interruption or not, but after my wonderfully eloquent reaction I decided to go with grateful.

The gravelled parking area soon filled with people in various stages of changing. Angus stepped aside to call Bran. Thankfully they agreed that there was no need for the Marrock's two-person team to come to Seattle now that John had been "taken care of." Their words, not mine. I had no desire to meet the werewolf equivalent of Judge Dredd. For some inexplicable reason, the Alpha still extended an invitation for the pair, Charles and Anna, to visit.

My wolf snarled at the idea of a strange female in our territory, near Angus. That thought brought me up short. Conversations with Mickayla and Moira swirled in my mind, their advice ultimately boiling down to figuring out what I, and my wolf, wanted. There was still time before the rest of the pack switched over to two legs. I sat on the back bumper of the SUV and turned my attention inward. _Ok, girl._ I felt like I was talking to Lassie. _Do you just like him because he's an Alpha or do you want him for a… mate?_

Several realizations cascaded over me simultaneously. What I had attributed to revulsion at the first time hearing the term "mate" was actually a gut twinge like highly concentrated stomach butterflies, or perhaps a hook drawing me to Angus. My wolf wanted to rub all over him until we were coated in each other's scents, to run with him through the woods again, the two of us alone in the moonlight, then curl up nose to the other's tail to sleep. And from both of us, tender possessiveness.

The object of our musings was keeping watch over his people while talking to Tom and Ian, both still in wolf form, about what to do with John's body. I was confident that Angus was uninjured, but I wanted to run my hands all over to confirm, to give and receive comfort. The pieces inside that had been tumbling in confusion since Tom pulled me over fell into their final places with a sense of rightness that was staggering.


End file.
